Merry Christmas
by Tadashi
Summary: [Alternate Scenario to ep 110] Stan x Kyle semifluff. ONESHOT! Kyle goes home after his stay in the asylum, gets a phone call from Stan to come do some Christmas things together. Contains symbolic cookies and a oddly cute mistletoe scene


**NOTES:**

First off: Yes, I am aware that it is the middle of August and that my Christmas story has no place among it.

This alternate scenario comes from episode 110 "Mr.Hankey the Christmas Poo".

Basic episode plot: Kyle's sent to the asylum because he's preaching about an x-mas turd... meanwhile, Mrs.Broflovski's got the town up in arms about non-denominational christmas stuff... in the end, Kyle was released and people learned that Jewish people and Hannukah are okay.

I had a plan to start it off a little differently, but that was BEFORE I saw the whole episode... ah, I just work with what I can. This is my first attempt at a South Park fic, so please be nice... Let's get on with it!

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**DISCLAIMER:** I don't own any part of South Park (property of Matt Stone and Trey Parker). I only own the thoughts and actions portrayed by the characters in this story.

**Please note:** I also do not own the lyrics to "A Lonely Jew on Christmas", which Kyle will be humming at some point during this fic.

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**Merry Christmas**

_By: _Tadashi

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Tired after his stay in the asylum, Kyle trudged home that night without saying a word. Even though the town (sort of) accepted his religion, it didn't feel entirely right somehow.

"Stupid Christmas," muttered Kyle as he climbed into bed. "If I ever see or hear anything about it again, it'll be too soon."

He heard the phone ring downstairs, but ignored it and tried to sleep. "Kyle, phone for you," shouted his mother.

"Tell them I'm asleep, mom," he shouted back.

"Kyle, you get down here right now and answer the phone, young man. It's your friend Stan."

Kyle sighed and hauled himself out of bed. "Fine, fine..." he opened the door, went down the stairs and took the phone from his mother. "WHAT!" snapped Kyle into the phone, once his mom was out of earshot.

"Dude, chill..." said Stan warily. "You left so fast that I didn't get a chance to ask you if you wanted to come over for a while."

"Aren't I too jewish for that?" he leered.

"No dude, it's nothing bad, I swear."

"But the town got pissed off at my mom because of all the non-denominational Jewish crap."

"They're pissed off at _her_, not you... they just think you're mental."

"Thanks a lot," Kyle was getting more and more annoyed.

"It's all a load of crap anyway, so just shut up and get your ass over here, okay?"

"But-"

"Duuude..."

"Okay fine," Kyle surrendered. "But only for half an hour. It's Christmas eve, you know."

"Yeah I know. I'll see you soon," and with that, Stan hung up.

Kyle sighed and headed for the door. "Mom, I'm going to Stan's house for a few minutes."

"Kyle, it's Christmas eve-" began his mom, but Kyle shut the door before she could finish.

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On his way to Stan's, Kyle hummed a little to himself.

"_My people don't believe in Jesus Christ's divinity. I'm a Jew, a lonely Jew, on Christmas.__ Hannukuh is nice, but-_" Kyle was standing in front of Stan's house. In the window, he could see a smiling Stan watch his dad attempt to put up the Christmas tree.

"That son of a..." Kyle rang the doorbell anyway. Anything was better than being around his wacko mother, even if it was watching Stan's dad wrestle with the Christmas tree.

The door flew open. "Hey Kyle."

"Don't 'Hey Kyle' me. You promised it wouldn't be any Catholic stuff-"

"I didn't promise that," interrupted Stan. "I just said it wouldn't be bad. Now get in here before you freeze to death." Kyle walked in and wiped his feet on the carpet while Stan yelled, "Moooooom, Kyle's here!"

"Okay Stan," called Sharon from the kitchen.

"SHUT UP TURDS, I'M WATCHING TV!" snarled Shelley.

Finally, Stan's dad finished with the tree. He wiped his brow and said, "phew, that took a lot of work, but it's a nice tree, isn't it, boys?"

"Yes Mr. Marsh" said Kyle, in tune with Stan who said, "Sure dad."

"Say Kyle, you can help Stan decorate it, okay? My back hurts from all that heavy lifting." he sat down on the couch beside Shelley.

"But it's against my religion-" began Kyle.

"Nonsense, decorating a tree doesn't make you any more Catholic than the rest of us. The boxes with the decorations in them are near the basement door," he pointed at them.

Stan picked up a box and said, "Dude, it's totally fun. It won't hurt or anything," he added with a smile.

"Okay fine, but after this I'm going home," said Kyle resolutely.

"Whatever," Stan shoved a string of christmas tree lights in his arms. "Help me with this, okay?"

"Okay."

Using a stepladder, Stan was able to do the top part of the tree while Kyle worked around the bottom. After putting up the lights, they put up the garland, the tinsel, and finally, the little baubles that really make the tree special. It was actually, dare I say, fun! Kyle was tempted to smile, but he told himself not to, just so Stan could see how 'miserable' he was.

"So, do we turn on the lights now?" Kyle wanted to know, after the tree was done.

"Not yet," said Randy. "Stan has to put the star on top of the tree, first." he got up to fetch the star.

"Really?"

"Yeah dude, it's our tradition" said Stan, climbing down from the stepladder. "But I think Kyle should do it."

"Me? Why me?"

"Because, it's your first Christmas tree, right?"

"Well, yeah, I guess so..."

"Well there you are," concluded Stan as his father returned with the star. "Now put it up there."

"No way, dude, it's _your_ family's tradition, you do it!"

Finally, Shelley screamed at them. "WHY DON'T YOU _BOTH_ DO IT, AND SHUT UP SO I CAN WATCH TV!"

"That works too," said Kyle quickly.

Stan got on the stepladder, followed by Kyle. Each of them held a side of the star in their hands.

"K dude... one, two, three!" As soon as the star went on, the tree lit up, startling Kyle. They climbed down and backed up so they could admire their tree. Kyle was enticed by the shiny christmas tree lights and smiled, forgetting that he was supposed to show Stan his misery.

"Hey, you're smiling!" Stan pointed at him. It wasn't mean, though, because he was smiling back.

"No..." said Kyle, trying to hide it, even though it was too late.

"See, I told you it wouldn't be bad, right?"

"Yeah, you did... well, I better get home," Kyle turned around, "thanks for-"

"Who wants Christmas cookies?" sang Stan's mother from the kitchen.

"...Cookies?" Kyle stopped.

The Marsh family cheered. "C'mon dude! Have some cookies with us!"

"_Damn Stan's mother for breaking out the cookies!_" snapped Kyle mentally. "But I-"

"Oh come on dude, you can't honestly tell me that eating _cookies_ is against your religion!" exclaimed an exasperated Stan.

"It isn't. I was gonna say that I'm diabetic. I can't _have_ cookies!"

"You are? Well what the hell, that's stupid!"

"Yeah, I know..." said Kyle sadly. "If I have too many I'll have to go to the hospital."

Stan thought for a moment. "Is one cookie too many?" he asked.

"Well... no, that's okay as long as it's plain," he said slowly.

"There you go! Now let's get cookies before they're all gone!" Stan grabbed Kyle's arm and dragged him towards the kitchen.

Stan's mom showed them the icing and toppings for the cookies. "So here's the icing, and a few sprinkles if you like... I made them into Christmas shapes for the holidays." Stan's mom rambled on proudly.

"Yeah, that's great, mom..." said Stan absently. "Pick a cookie, Kyle."

The former picked one randomly. "There. Are you happy now?"

"Yes and no," replied the latter. "It's just too bad you can't put any icing on it."

"Not unless you want me to go to the hospital."

"Well, I don't. But that doesn't mean you can't help me decorate my cookies." Stan climbed up onto a little stool so he could reach the counter.

"Pass. I'd get too hungry and before you know it, boom! Ambulance."

"Okay, okay," Stan tried no to laugh. "Park your ass on the living room floor, then." He knew Kyle was questioning this, so he continued, "see, we have a sort of... picnic with our cookies on the living room floor... it's not really a tradition, it's just so we can see the TV better." Stan hopped off his stool with a plateful of cookies. "C'mon dude."

"But I'm gonna look stupid with one plain cookie," protested Kyle.

"So what? My parents'll understand that you're diabetic. Quit tryin to come up with excuses already."

Kyle muttered something inaudible as he followed Stan to the living room and sat down beside him, thus completing a circle near the tree.

"Not hungry, Kyle?" asked Stan's dad through a mouthful of cookie.

"...Yeah, something like that." The Marsh family (minus Stan) were finished in an instant and got up to put their plates away. Shelly gave her mother the plate so she could sit back down on the couch faster.

Kyle nibbled his cookie slowly, but not slow enough so that Stan could trick him into another Christmas activity.

"Thanks for coming over tonight, dude." Kyle said nothing, so Stan continued. "You know, I learned that Jewish people are okay, and that Hannakuh can be okay. This is the time of year where we have to stop worrying about the all the bad stuff and hang out together... and make cookies," he added, indicating their cookies. "And even though a turd said that stuff, and that was pretty fucked up," he laughed. "He's right. That's what the spirit of Christmas is."

"Wow... Mr. Hankey said all that?"

"Yeah, a while ago..." the two sat in silence. Who knew the turd had so much insight?

Stan broke the silence. "Check it out... I made this," he showed Kyle a round cookie with a Jewish star in yellow icing.

"That's pretty good, dude... how'd you know it looked like that?"

"I thought everybody knew that," said Stan with a shrug.

"Well, it's still pretty cool."

"Thanks... here, you have it." Stan offered it.

"But I can't eat-"

"Not to eat, just to have. It's your special Christmas Hannukah cookie."

Kyle laughed a little. "How lame was that?"

"Very..."

Kyle took the cookie from him. "Thanks dude... wait a second okay?"

Stan shrugged. "Alright." He turned himself around and watched TV from his spot on the floor.

Kyle was back in an instant. "I fixed the cookie," he announced proudly.

Stan stood up and turned around. "Really? Let's see." The same Jewish star was on it, but in the middle, Kyle had made a catholic cross out of blue icing.

"Dude, that's pretty sweet... why'd you do that?"

Kyle shrugged. "Felt like it. I think it looks better now, don't you?"

"Yeah, it kinda does..."

"Keep it," Kyle passed it to him. Stan shook his head and handed it back. "No way, dude, it was your Christmas cookie in the first place. You keep it."

"You keep it!"

"No, you keep it!"

"No, you..." Kyle stopped. "This isn't gonna end, is it?"

"We're kids. It's what we do," said Stan sagely.

"Alright... I'll keep it, then." Kyle pocketed the cookie. "But I really gotta get home now, okay? I told my mom I'd only be here for a few minutes."

"Okay, I guess I've tortured you long enough," laughed Stan as they trooped towards the front door. "Thanks for comin over, dude."

"No problem." Kyle opened the door, but was interrupted when Shelly's said, "Hey, you two know that you're under the mistletoe, right?"

Both boys looked up to see that there was, indeed, an actual clump of mistletoe hanging from the ceiling.

"Tradition says you have to kiss, you turds," jeered Shelly before walking away.

The eyes went from the ceiling and found the other awkwardly. "...Do I really have to kiss you?" asked Kyle, who seemed not to believe it.

"Well, it's what the tradition says..."

"But I thought the town banned-"

"Yeah, they did," replied Stan hastily. "But I guess my parents didn't wanna follow the ban and kept it anyway. So... let's just get this over with, okay?"

"Okay."

Awkwardly and embarassedly, with their hearts beating in their ears, the two boys inched closer to each other. Just before any contact was made, Stan's mom spoke up. "Are you leaving, Kyle?" Both boys nearly jumped out of their skins and stepped back from each other.

"Y-yes, Mrs. Marsh," stuttered Kyle.

"Alright, then. Have a merry Christ- oops, I mean, happy Hannukah," and with that she was gone faster than she appeared.

Stan patted his heart. "Screw tradition... they'll forgive us."

Kyle opened the door to leave, paused, then turned around and placed a swift kiss on Stan's cheek. "If you _ever_ tell anyone about that, I will kill you," warned Kyle as he marched down the walkway of Stan's house.

"Deal... Happy Hannukah, Kyle!" called Stan, even though he was slightly stunned.

"Merry Christmas, Stan!" he called back with a wave. To Kyle, everything suddenly seemed right with the world. And maybe, just maybe, he could deal with this bizarre holiday they call Christmas.

Stan placed a hand on his cheek, then smiled. And slowly, he closed the front door.

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_**DAS ENDE!**_

Yay, 1 alternate scenario down... many more to go! D (I don't know how many, okay?)

So... RESPECT MAH AUTHORITAH and leave me a little review, okay? Bye guys!


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